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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382302">More Questions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/surefireshore/pseuds/surefireshore'>surefireshore</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>SurefireShore's Writuary 2020 [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>19th Century, Drabble, Gen, Revolutionaries, Subterfuge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:35:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382302</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/surefireshore/pseuds/surefireshore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 3 of the 1830s political subterfuge story starting with Crumpled and continuing with Meeting the Mystery</p><p>Liz reflects on the man in the shadows.</p><p>Writuary Day 18: Crave/Craving</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>SurefireShore's Writuary 2020 [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589320</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Writuary 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>More Questions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was nearly dawn by the time the carriage pulled her home, and she craved sleep as she had earlier craved purpose.</p><p>Her meeting with the man in the shadows had yielded little fruit. Indeed, she had more questions now than when the evening began. He had never let her see his face or any other identifying feature. She couldn’t even say what color coat he had been wearing.</p><p>She wondered if the patterns she had recognized in his voice meant what she believed. As the sun rose on the day of her final test, she vowed to find out.</p>
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